


Hums and Squeaks

by safety_dancer



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Dystonia, Gen, M/M, lowkey angsty, lowkey tho i swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-02 23:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8687749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safety_dancer/pseuds/safety_dancer
Summary: Goshiki thinks that he should feel nervous, but he can only feel weirdly satisfied to know that his problem has a name.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this is based on my own struggles, as i have dystonia. this is basically me protecting myself into Goshiki here.

“Dystonia,” the doctor informs them. She glances down at her clipboard and jots down a few quick notes. “To describe it simply, it's involuntary muscle contractions. In some cases, it affects the vocal cords, eyelids, and even emotions, though that is rare.”

There's a sense of relief in being able to put a name to something. It's like a weight is being lifted from your shoulders, as you finally get to label whatever the hell you're going through.

Goshiki feels that same relief now. He sits cross legged on the hospital bed with his hands folded loosely in his lap, as the doctor speaks privately to his mother. His fingers twitch, and he represses the urge to shake his hands.

He thinks that he should feel nervous, but he can only feel weirdly satisfied to know that his problem has a name.

The doctor finishes talking to his mother, and so she turns to him with a calming smile on her tired face.

“Tsutomu,” she says kindly, “let me see your arm, please.” Moving to take a seat on the edge of the bed, she picks up a small vial filled with clear liquid and inserts the tip into the IV sticking from the crook of Goshiki's arm. Slowly, she empties the vial of its contents, murmuring low encouragements all the while.

“It feels cold,” Goshiki says, and immediately his eyelids droop. “What is that?”

“It's a muscle relaxant,” she replies. Setting the vial aside, she gently pushes Goshiki back until he’s leaning against the soft pillows. His vision blurs slightly and he tries to blink back into focus, but every time his eyes close, it gets harder to keep them open. “Get some sleep now, okay, Tsutomu?”

He's asleep before she finishes her sentence.

 

[/]

 

It's hard for Goshiki to concentrate on his school today. Generally, he can manage pretty well; he pays attention to his teachers, takes down notes for study later, and gets to all his classes on time.

But then he'll have a day like today, in which he can hardly sit still in his seat. His throat constricts as he swallows down the urge to hum. His feet tap noisily against the metal legs of his chair, and his head whips rapidly to the side one, two, three times. He feels the stares of the other students and unwanted tears spring to his eyes.

“Goshiki-kun,” his history teacher calls, and Goshiki looks up at him with watery eyes. “Do you need to take a moment?”

“Y-yes, sensei. Please.”

At the man's nod, Goshiki quickly shoves away from his desk, exiting the classroom. He sprints through the empty hallways until he reaches the front entrance. Once he's outside the school building, he leans against the door and uses the edge of his sleeve to rub away the tears wetting his cheeks.

With his back against the door, he slides down to sit on the concrete, pulling his knees up to his chest. His head jerks to the left with a _pop_ and Goshiki grimaces, unable to help it as he throws his arms out and shakes his hands wildly, as he begins to hum tunelessly.

He's glad that it had started while he was in history class. Sensei Rekishi was kind and understanding, often checking up on Goshiki, asking if he needed to take a break or if he remembered to bring his medicine.

Most of his other senseis were not so kind. Despite having been informed about Goshiki’s disorder and the lapses of focus that came as an effect, they gave him a hard time. Some refused to allow him breaks, or they didn't tolerate his constant “fidgeting”. They would tell him to cut it out, that it was distracting to the other students. Goshiki would explain that he couldn't help it, he _had_ to give in to the urges. They didn't listen.

So Goshiki would try and force himself to sit as still as possible, even though he _knew_ that would make things so much worse later. Repressing his tics only made them ten times more violent. Put simply, it was _not_ pleasant to go through.

Reaching into his pocket, Goshiki brings out a small packet of muscle relaxants. His lips twist into an unhappy frown; he _hates_ taking this stuff. It screws him over, making him feel uncoordinated, slow, and sleepy (enough that he usually ends up spending free study time napping behind the bookshelves in the library).

His shoulders hunch inwards before moving up and down in an awkward shrugging motion. He taps his left foot against the ground, a sudden restlessness taking over his muscles. He grits his teeth and pops the pills into his mouth, swallowing them dry. He has to wait a good ten minutes before they begin to take effect, but once they do and his body finally calms down, he picks himself up and walks slowly back to his class. Sensei Rekishi looks at him with concern as Goshiki takes a seat at his desk, but Goshiki only shakes his head with a winsome smile, a silent _I'll be fine._

He avoids looking at anyone directly as he flips to the page in his textbook that they're reading from, pretending he didn't just miss the majority of the lesson, which he'll have try and make up for later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has turned out to be rly therapeutic to write? 
> 
> thanks again to Abby for being the best beta to ever beta!!

“Mom! _Mom!_ ” Goshiki bursts through the front door like a whirlwind, barely pausing to drop his pack to the floor before he's running into the kitchen, skidding to a stop in front of his startled mother. He thrusts a piece of paper into her face, thrumming with excitement. “I got accepted into Shiratorizawa’s volleyball club!” He tells her proudly. His face hurts with the force of his smile as his mother takes the paper, reading over it quickly before turning her eyes to him. Her smile is every bit as wide and excited as his own, and she throws her arms around him in a tight hug.

“I _knew_ you'd get in!” She laughs, pressing a kiss to his hair. Pulling away, she sets the paper on the countertop, and then she's grabbing Goshiki's shoulders gently. “I'm so proud of you,” she whispers earnestly, with tears welling in her eyes, “but I do have some concerns.”

Goshiki knows what coming, and so he smiles reassuringly. “About my dystonia? Don't worry, Mom! It doesn't bother me when I play! Promise. You should watch me practice sometime!”

She hums thoughtfully and nods her head. “I would love that,” she tells him. “I think you'll do wonderfully. You'll be the best, Tsutomu.”

At her words, a fire is lit in Goshiki's veins, and his hands clench into determined fists. “I'll be the _best_ ,” he repeats to himself.

And he believes it.

 

[/]

 

Shiratorizawa's gym is _massive_ , and Goshiki immediately feels incredibly overwhelmed as he steps through the doors.  His fingers twitch against the strap of his bag and his throat constricts as tiny, nervous humming noises make it past his pursed lips. Anxiety settles heavily in his stomach and he kind of wants to puke.

“Hey there, first year!”

Goshiki jumps and realizes he's just been standing awkwardly in front of the entrance, so he snaps to attention, holding himself still as possible. A tall boy, with vibrant red hair that stands straight up, approaches him with a lazy grin on his face.

“You're Goshiki Tsutomu, yeah?”

“Y-yes!” Goshiki bows quickly, his hands curled into fists at his sides. When he straightens up, his eyes are sparkling with awe. “You're Tendou Satori! The Guess Monster! I've watched a lot of Shiratorizawa's matches, and you're amazing! I want to be able to block like that, too!”

Tendou throws his head back and laughs loudly, reaching out to ruffle Goshiki's hair. “Ya sure got some ambition, huh?”

Goshiki nods vigorously. He looks past Tendou and gasps when he sees _him_. “That's Ushijima Wakatoshi,” he whispers, watching the team's ace slam a volleyball down on the other side of the net. Goshiki sucks in an excited breath, turning back to Tendou with a new determination. “I'm going to be the next ace!” He yells, “I'm going to be even _better_ than Ushijima-senpai!”

Tendou blinks, frozen in momentary shock. He studies Goshiki with narrowed, calculating eyes, but then he's cackling, a wide grin stretching across his face and tears appearing in the corner of his eyes with the force of his laughter. “Is that so?” He asks, looping an arm around Goshiki's shoulders and leading him towards the locker room. “Well, we better get you started on that goal, then!”

 

[/]

 

It had been ten minutes since Tendou had pushed Goshiki into the changing area, pointing out Goshiki's very own locker and telling him to hurry up and change, as practice was going to be starting. Then he was left alone, staring at the practice jersey that had been pressed into his hands. He tentatively traces the white number eight emblazoned on the front; _his_ number.

There's an indescribable feeling creeping up his spine and lodging as a lump in his throat. He's overcome by so much excitement and nervousness all at once, and it kickstarts his tics into overdrive. His hands begin twitching uncontrollably as tears swell in his eyes, dripping down and creating tiny, wet splotches on his jersey. His right foot taps sporadically against the floor, the sound of it echoing dully in the room. His shoulders move up, down, back, and forth in quick, jerky motions.

“Are ya done changin’ yet, Tsutomu?”

Goshiki startles at Tendou's voice as the older boy yells from the doorway. He opens his mouth to answer, but all that comes out is a loud humming noise. He clears his throat and tries again, “One, mmm! One second, Tendou-senpai!”

“Hurry it up!”

Goshiki sinks to the floor and buries his face in the jersey, muffling his vocal tics in the fabric until he's calmed down. He sucks in several deep breaths, and then quickly slips the jersey on over his head, smoothing down the fabric as it settles over his t-shirt. He gazes at it in awe for a few seconds, and then he's running to stand beside Tendou as the team lines up, awaiting instruction from Coach Washijou.

“First year!” Washijou calls out, “step forward.”

Goshiki freezes up, but then Tendou is nudging his shoulder lightly, snapping Goshiki into action. He fists his hands into the hem of his shirt to hide the spasming of his fingers, and takes a step towards the coach.

Washijou sizes him up, and Goshiki feels like bug pinned to a board under his critical gaze. “Introduce yourself,” Washijou commands, meeting Goshiki's gaze squarely.

Goshiki swallows, but then he takes a breath, steeling himself. “My name is Goshiki Tsutomu!” He says firmly, “I'm a wing spiker, and- and one day, I will become Shiratorizawa's ace!”

The other team members stare at him with mixed expressions; for the most part, they look thoroughly shocked, except Ushijima, who doesn't visibly react, and Tendou, who's sporting a wide grin. Coach Washijou lets out a raspy burst of laughter, and eyes Goshiki with a new curiosity.

“Good for you, kid,” he says. He then turns towards the others, and claps his hands together once, loudly. “Alright! Everyone start warming up!”

A chorus of “yes, coach!” rings through the gym, and all the boys spread out, drop to the floor, and begin their warm up exercises. Goshiki hesitates and looks around before picking a spot further away from his teammates.

His _teammates_.

He can't help but grin at that, and he feels giddy with excitement all over again. Even the prospect of doing a _hundred spikes_ doesn't daunt him.

He's really _here_. He's part of a team. _Shiratorizawa's_ team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback, as always, is super appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to Abby (scribblescrumbs) and Emily (All_My_Characters_Are_Dead) for being amazing betas and helping me out so much! love y'all!
> 
> sorry for the shorter chapter today; it's been a hell of a week but I still wanted to update.

Goshiki has honestly _never_ been so exhausted in his entire _life_. He's sore all over, covered in sweat, and he really just wants to lie down and sleep for the next ten years.

He's never felt better.

He closes the door to his dorm (yes, he has his _very own dorm_ , how cool is _that_ ), tosses his bag onto the bed, and sinks slowly to the floor. He draws his legs to his chest and tucks his face into his knees. His whole frame trembles with lingering adrenaline; he feels filled to the brim with energy, yet tired at the same time, and everything seems to catch up with him all at once.

His tics, which had lessened considerably during practice, begin acting up again, except they're three times worse now. His head slams back into the door and he winces, rubbing the offended area. His facial muscles contort, and he can't stop blinking. He shakes his hands, taps his feet, and shrugs his shoulders. His head jerks backwards, once again thumping painfully against the door.

He stands, and though it's the last thing he wants to do, he moves to grab his meds from his bag, but he's suddenly overwhelmed by the need to just _kick_ something. The urge is so strong and uncontrollable that he ends up spinning around and aiming a hard kick at the door, cringing at the resulting noise. His throat feels itchy and he hums loudly as his head jerks again and again. A wave of emotion washes over him, and for literally _no reason at all_ , he starts crying. Big, ugly tears that slide down his cheeks to drip from his chin. He swipes at them in frustration.

“I'm not even -mmm- _sad,_ ” he mumbles, kicking at the door again, but this time with much less force. He blinks, causing more tears to flow.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing in there?!”

Goshiki yelps as someone angrily bangs against his door. Quickly, he uses the sleeve of his shirt to dry his face, before opening the door just a crack, peeking through to find Yamagata scowling at him.

“ _What_ is up with all the _goddamn_ _noi_ \- are you crying?”

Goshiki ignores the question, smiling faintly. “I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Yamagata-senpai!” He says, “I'll be quieter. Goodnight!”

“ _Hey,_ wait a fucking minute, now,” Yamagata holds the door open when Goshiki attempts to shut it. “Seriously, what's up, kid?”

“I'm -mmm- fine! Promise.” Goshiki gives a quick thumbs up, coughing to cover up a squeak as his head jerks to the right. “I'm just -mmm- tired, I guess.”

Yamagata says nothing for a long moment, only stares skeptically. “You sure?” He asks finally. Goshiki nods once, and so the third year sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Whatever, fine. Just- tell me if you need something, ‘kay?”

Goshiki smiles genuinely this time, and his voice is hushed with gratitude when he says, “Thank you, Yamagata-senpai.”

 

[/]

 

Goshiki’s shoes hit the floor with staccato squeaks, his arm still extended in a spiking position as the volleyball slices through the air and slams down on the other side of the net. He grins satisfactorily and spins around, looking at each of his teammates with an expression of hopeful excitement.

“Did you guys see my super straight shot just now?!” He prompts, eager for compliments.

“I didn't see a thing,” Shirabu deadpans, balancing a ball on his forefinger.

“I guess Shirabu-senpai just isn't very observant, then,” Goshiki mumbles, his face scrunching into a pout. Disappointment at the lack of reaction from _anyone_ has his shoulders curling inward slightly. Maybe that spike wasn't as good as he thought? He picks up another ball, twirling it in his hands before tossing it into the air, taking a running leap and spiking with as much force as he can, expecting to hear the resounding _thump_ of leather against wood.

Instead, Yamagata is suddenly diving for the ball, which glances off his arms and flies to the side. He picks himself up with a grunt, turning to Goshiki. “That was fucking impressive,” he says. With a grin, he gets into receiving position. “C’mon, future ace,” he encourages, “Show me what ya got.”

Goshiki smiles wildly, jumping in place for a second before running for another volleyball. He feels electrified with adrenaline; his entire body shakes with enthusiasm.

 _Future ace_.

His fingers spasm as he tightens his grip on the ball, and he gives in to the sudden urge to stomp his feet. He rolls his shoulders, takes a breath, and goes in for another spike. He uses the same amount of power, but this time Yamagata is ready for it, and he receives the ball cleanly, sending it back into the air in a perfect arch. Goshiki stares in awe.

“That was _awesome_!” He yells, “I want to learn to receive like that!”

Yamagata’s smile is smug as he ducks under the net, ruffling Goshiki’s hair as he passes him, jogging towards the bench to grab his water bottle. “That _spike_ was awesome,” he replies, and there's a hint of pride in his tone that Goshiki doesn't miss. “You've definitely got some damn power. Keep it up and you'll be at Ushiwaka’s level in no time.”

Goshiki’s hands make fists in the fabric of his practice jersey, his eyes going wide, lit by fiery determination. To become as great a wing spiker as Ushijima has always been his goal, and so to hear it from Yamagata felt _huge_. He feels a hundred times more confident in himself and in his ability to _reach_ his goals, just because of those few words. _Keep it up. Keep it up. I can do that_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback is always appreciated!!!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks ofc, to Abby for beta-ing! 
> 
> comments, kudos, or any feedback is always appreciated! and feel free to ask me about dystonia, im happy to answer any questions! 
> 
> don't hesitate to hmu at my tumblr @littleamericanduck!


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